The Prisoner's Dilemma
by holadios
Summary: Held at gunpoint, House is forced to make an impossible decision. Three people he cares about are being held hostage; only one of them can be saved. Can he change the odds, or will he have to confront their imminent deaths, or even the chance of his own?
1. Premise of the Game

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognize is mine.

**A/N:** This is a story I have been meaning to write for a while, and have finally started. Updates will hopefully not take long, though they may be sporadic. The story isn't completely written yet. I'm going to use my system of posting a chapter after the following one has been written; it's worked well in the past. So far, I have written through chapter three.

This story is set after Lockdown. All season 6 events happened. Cuddy and House are together. I guess that puts this story sometime in season 7, but I can't say for sure since I'm not sure how long ago Lockdown was. Just go with me.

**A/N:** To my lovely beta, I thank thee for all your hard work.

* * *

If House were to make a list of his top ten biggest pet peeves, 911 pages to the clinic would certainly make the top five, with the exception, of course, being 911 clinic pages from Cuddy to empty clinic rooms. (Those topped an entirely different top ten list.) House therefore answered this one with hopeful hesitation. He did not hurry down to the clinic, not wanting to look too desperate, but instead took his time meandering the hallways. When he reached the door of the clinic room he had been paged to, he was pleased to see that the lights were off, meaning there was no patient inside. He adjusted his shirt collar, trying not to look too pleased with himself, and then pushed open the door.

"Wilson just lost a bet." He heard the door slam shut behind him as he reached for his shirt buttons. He had barely gotten the top button undone before the lights were suddenly turned on.

It took a moment for the entire scene to register. Three people, two of whom he was close to, and one of whom he hadn't seen in several months, all sitting on the floor, with their backs against the wall. He could not see anything binding their arms or legs, which meant something else must have been keeping them rooted to the ground. He wondered vaguely if this was a hallucination, but how could it be? He hadn't been on the Vicodin in over a year, nearly a year and a half. His drug intake of any kind had been moderated and monitored. That only left one possibility.

The scene before him was actually real.

Though all three of them were staring at him, he could only look at the one in the middle. Her face was pained. She looked almost apologetic. He caught sight of the pager on the ground, a few inches from her feet. And then he knew.

"Don't turn around."

He felt the cold metal against his neck and knew that whoever was behind him was holding a gun, or, at the very least, pretending to. He fought the urge to turn around and yank the curling iron, or other household appliance, out of the speaker's hands, but she, sensing his intentions, shook her head. He distinctly saw her lips form the word.

_Gun._

"Well this is a nice hello," he quipped. He was listening for the response, but was more focused on assessing the three people in front of him. None of them seemed to be injured in any way. And while this should have comforted him, it actually made him more nervous. If none of them had been injured, but the man still had a gun, it might be only a matter of time. His frown deepened when he looked to the person furthest to the right, the woman he had last seen nearly a year ago. She had her arms wrapped around her knees, but when he caught her eye, she shifted them slightly, and he saw what she had been hiding. Comprehension dawned on him as the pieces came together.

"I haven't hurt any of them."

"I can see that," House informed him. "Can I turn around now? I generally like to know what my hostage takers look like."

"Who said anything about taking you hostage?"

House fought the urge to roll his eyes, but then after remembering that the man couldn't see them, rolled them anyway. "You're holding a gun to my head. This does kind of make me your hostage."

He seemed to consider this for a moment. Then he said, "Put your hands on your head and turn around. Slowly."

"Can I at least get your-"

"Now!" He jabbed the muzzle of the gun harder against House's head for good measure. House saw the fear flash across Cuddy's eyes and slowly raised his hands to his head. He broke eye contact with her only at the last possible second, as he turned completely around to face his attacker.

The man was a good three inches shorter than him, and no more than half as good-looking. His disheveled appearance did nothing to help the matter; it looked as though he hadn't shaved in days. House thought the man looked vaguely recognizable, but nothing came immediately to mind. If anyone behind him recognized the man, they didn't show it either. He supposed that ruled out their specialties.

"What are you doing?" House had to ask. The man still had his gun – and House could clearly see that it really was a gun – raised and pointed at his, House's, chest. He continued calmly, "Or I'd settle for your name, at least. Since you are aiming a gun at me, and all."

"My name's on the chart," the man said gruffly. House looked at him appraisingly, wondering what illness he could possibly have, and hoping that it was a nastily painful one. Then it dawned on him: the man wasn't sick at all. He had simply lied about an illness to gain access to the clinic. Clearly some new security measures would need to be taken. Keeping his eyes on the gun, House reached for the chart on the chair.

He brought it up to his face and read aloud, "Mr. – wait, what? Come on, that can't be real."

"It's what it says on the chart, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but, _Sid Vicious_? That can't be your real name. You know, insurance doesn't cover visits made by fake people."

"Good thing I'm not actually sick, then."

House narrowed his eyes. "You could have at least made up something believable. This is just overcompensation." He noticed the gun shaking slightly in Sid's hand. Remembering the people behind him, he desisted. "Okay, enough of that." He threw the chart to the ground. "Why are you really here?"

Sid considered this. Finally, he said, "Let's go with social experiment."

"Social experiment," House repeated skeptically. "Psychology 101 project? You want to see how doctors act under pressure or something? There are easier ways of doing it. _Legal_-er ways, too."

"It's not that kind of experiment."

"What then?" House asked impatiently.

"Just a little experiment to make sure you're still human. To see how you rationalize what should be an impossible decision. Doctors force impossible decisions on family members all the time. This time it's your turn."

"So, you've set up a little game here because one day you had to make a hard decision and now you're trying to-"

"The scenario," Sid continued, cutting loudly across House, "is this. Three family members need an organ from you, but you can only give the organ to one of them. Without the organ, they will die. You have to choose who to give the organ to."

This time, House couldn't restrain himself. "That has to be the stupidest, most irrational scenario I've ever heard. You can't reenact that with real people-"

"So here's how this is going to work." Sid gestured behind him. "These are your three family members. They're all going to die. You just have to pick the one you want to save."

House looked at the three hostages. He could tell from their expressions that they had not heard about this scenario before. One stare was pleading, a silent, desperate cry that House not do anything stupid that could get someone killed. His eyes fell on Cameron next. She had wrapped her arms protectively around her swollen stomach, and her gaze was flickering between House and their assailant as she nervously accessed the situation. Finally, he looked at Cuddy. Of the three of them, she looked the most outwardly calm, but he knew that she was as nervous as any of them. He could tell she was considering the probability of security managing to find them and weighing that against the risk of making a mad dash for the border. When she caught his gaze, she shook her head ever so slightly.

He turned back around. "Why are you doing this?"

"Just an experiment."

"You're obviously taking revenge on someone. No one just wakes up one day and decides this is a good idea."

Sid leveled the gun. "Answer me."

"What if I don't want to play?" Behind him, House heard Cameron give a low groan.

In an instant, Sid had shifted his position and was pressing the gun against the temple of the only man among the three hostages. House found himself staring at Wilson in disbelief, his friend's eyes widening in fear.

"House," he insisted, "just answer him!"

"Shut up," Sid snapped. House saw him wrap his finger around the trigger. "I'm going to count to five. You don't have to play; you can walk out of this room right now if you want. But if you do, I'm going to kill them all. One."

House looked at Cuddy uncertainly.

"Two."

_No, _she mouthed.

"Three."

Or had it been _go_? It was hard to tell.

"Four."

"House!" He didn't need to turn to know it was Cameron who had screamed.

"Fi-"

"All right!" he announced loudly. "All right, I'm staying. Put down the damn gun." Sid looked at him suspiciously. "Put it down now!"

He watched as Sid slowly lowered the weapon, and he took that as his cue. Settling himself onto the unoccupied patient table, House leaned back and made himself comfortable. "Let the games begin."

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**A/N:** Please review! I would love to know what you personally thought. Updates will come faster if my muse is satiated!


	2. Rational Choice Theory

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**A/N:** ...WOW! I am so thrilled by the great response for the first chapter. I love this story so much, and it makes me so happy to know that many of you love it too. I've never gotten such passionate reviews! justpassing, your review was fantastic. I won't say too much here because I don't want to give anything about the story away, but...let's just say that I (and therefore, House) will take most/all of those things into consideration. Thanks to all my anonymous reviewers. I really appreciate your reviews, even if I can't respond!

Giving credit where credit is due...Pandorama, thanks for allowing me to name my hostage taker after your cat.

**A/N:** Melissa, you're awesome. Also, very nerdy. I included some of your nerdiness in this chapter.

_"He never spoke of the softer passions, save for with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer – excellent for drawing the veil from men's motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results."_ -Sherlock Holmes

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Economics was a field that, admittedly, House had not studied since the undergraduate introductory level. He didn't remember much from the class, except for a single theory, and even then, he only remembered the theory because he had thought then – and still believed now – that it was dead wrong. Rational choice theory. As if his theoretical objections weren't enough, practice had shown him that the theory simply didn't hold up in the real world. People weren't rational. Decisions were made based on split-second emotions, nothing more than gut reactions. Fear. Guilt. Love.

Despite his non-adherence to the theory, House also prided himself on being the exception to the rule that people were irrational. He always made his choices, the majority of them medical, in a way that emphasized the rational and displayed little to no patience for the irrational or emotional. The objective was simple: diagnose the patient and save their life. The emotions of the patients, the surrounding family members, were just complications, complications that blinded rational thought.

Of the non-medical decisions he had made, at least all of them had been justified with some rational thought, even if it was coupled with emotion. Emotions, he had discovered, could be rationalized, a fact which the philosophers had taken into account by inventing the convenient fiction of utils. A systematic way to calculate exactly how much pleasure an action would give him – it was a perfect way to reconcile his emotional desires with rational thought. It was this system, he knew, that would have to be adopted now.

Sid watched him with an impatient curiosity. He was no longer pointing the gun at anyone, though House could still tell the man was jumpy enough to be trigger-happy. But he was watching House carefully, as though the entire point of his "social experiment" was to see how House would deliberate - not what the actual result would be. The experiment was obviously driven by irrational emotion. House took silent pride in the fact his decision would be made by rational calculation, which in some way seemed to deny the point of the man's plan.

He looked at Wilson first, running through the list of benefits in his mind. Free food was certainly a plus; that was worth a handful of utils at least. Having a car was nice; House gave him a few more. Then there were the intangibles: the memories, the friendship, the company. All of those had to be rationalized into utils somehow. He decided to give Wilson several util-credits for the time invested in their friendship. Then he took some away for Sam. Their time together was generally well spent, but it was no comparison to –

Sex. That had to be worth hundreds of utils. Nothing could compete with a score like that.

As always, Cameron proved to be more of a mystery to him. She provided no free food, car, or sexual favors. She was nice office art (a few utils), but she no longer worked for him, so that was irrelevant (he took the utils away). She didn't affect his life any more, professionally or personally…except for the indirect effect. He wondered if Chase even knew she was here. If that was Chase's baby, then losing it might have a negative effect on his work, thus negatively affecting his, House's, life. But how could he calculate that? He supposed it didn't matter. Her util count had to be the lowest.

But what would Cuddy say if Cameron died, if any of them died? Would she blame him if House didn't find a way out of this that resulted in everyone leaving the room alive? He knew her well enough to know the answer to that.

He was going to need more time.

"Okay, I've reached a decision."

Panic flashed on the faces of the three hostages as Sid stepped closer. "Who?"

House shook his head. "No who for you. I've decided that I'm not deciding anything about who I would save until you tell me what's going on here. What's this analogous to, why are you doing it, and-" he glanced around the room "—how did you manage to set it up in the first place?"

Sid considered the request. "And if I tell you all of that, you'll answer my question?"

House knew he had no choice. He would just need to listen to what Sid had to say, and hope that the monologue lasted long enough for him to come up with his next plan. Listening to him would also reveal more about Sid, giving him a better idea of what sort of answer the man was looking for. It would also increase the possibility of Sid making a compromising mistake. All the same, House avoided looking at anyone directly as he answered, "Yes."

"No!" House heard Wilson protest.

"Shut up," Sid snapped, brandishing his gun. He looked at House carefully, and House could tell he was thinking hard. "Will you really answer?"

"You don't believe me?"

"You're not the most trustworthy person."

House's eyes narrowed. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know she's your girlfriend," Sid said, pointing at Cuddy. "And he's your best friend."

"And her?" House asked, indicating Cameron.

Sid shrugged. "A patient."

The response surprised him, as he was sure it surprised the rest of them as well. House smirked. "You really don't know anything about me, do you?"

"I knew you wouldn't have come here unless your girlfriend paged you. So once I had her here, all I needed to do was hold the gun to her head and tell her to press the numbers. I knew that your best friend would come if he received a page from anyone because he's just that kind of a person, so I had her page him, too."

"And the patient?"

"I found her in the exam room. She was already here when I followed your girlfriend inside."

House quickly glanced at Cameron and Cuddy to see if this story was true. It didn't look like the information was new to either of them. He could see how the pieces were falling together. Cameron must have returned to see Chase, and ran into Cuddy. Or perhaps she had scheduled the appointment herself. Either way, it seemed that Sid had been able to capitalize on an unfortunately coincidental series of events.

"How did you get a chart?"

"Filled it out myself. I was bored while I was waiting for your friend to join us."

House nodded. "I guess that answers my last question. Now how about tackling the other two?"

"No."

"No?"

"I answered one of your questions, so now I want you to answer one of mine."

"_One_ of yours?" House repeated. "You only had one question, and I'm not answering it until all of my questions have been answered."

"I have another question now. A short one. A quickie, if you will."

"Right," he said. "I only do quickies for certain people. Perhaps if you took a number-"

The bullet hit the floor with a small pop. He barely registered that the gun had been silenced, because the sight of Sid raising the gun and firing it a split-second later was still burned into his retinas. He saw a pair of feet jump up from the floor, mere inches from where the bullet had struck. He supposed there had been a scream, but he hadn't heard it over his own yell. And then he knew what the point had been, for as soon as her name left his lips, he realized he had just given away to Sid that he actually knew who the so-called patient was.

"Cameron," Sid repeated, smirking. "So you do know her."

House didn't bother to answer. Instead, he watched her inspect herself for injury. He saw her palpable relief when she confirmed that the silent bullet hadn't actually pierced her skin. He noticed that Cuddy was inspecting her carefully, too. When he caught her eye, he could tell that Cuddy was shaken. The bullet hadn't been far away from her feet either. The bullet hadn't been aimed high enough to get lodged into the wall; he could see it rolling on the floor.

"What is her relation to you?"

"Former employee," House responded without looking at him.

"You seem to care a lot about her, for just being a former employee. What good is she to you now?"

He could see the fearful, begging expression on her face. She was willing him to understand something unspoken between them. He could see she was not begging him out of self-interested preservation of life, but instead out of a misplaced, contradictory sense of self-sacrifice. She wasn't begging him to save her for her own sake; rather, for the sake of someone that she hadn't spoken to for the better part of a year.

"Despite what you may have heard," he began, turning away from her at last, "I'm actually a very nice person. I don't believe in senseless killing. Which brings us back to my question." He looked directly at Sid. "Why are you doing this anyway?"

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**A/N:** So, chapter four is written. Chapter three has been betaed but I haven't made the changes yet. I want to give myself time to work on chapter five before moving on. Just so the anonymous reviewers aren't checking back every day, I will update chapter three on **Friday**. In the meantime, please don't forget to review!


	3. Conditions of the Game

**Disclaimer:** I own nada.

**A/N:** Here it is, your Friday update, as promised. Thanks to everyone who submitted a review last time. You are all wonderful people! This is the last set-up chapter...you'll see why at the end! I know this chapter is shorter than the previous ones, but I promise that the next chapter is longer.

Thanks to Pandorama who helped figure out the blood-typing with Punnett squares.

**A/N:** Brains, Melissa!

* * *

In an uncharacteristic display of attention, House had listened to Sid's story in silence for nearly half an hour. He figured that once Sid was talking, it would be best to just let him continue, rather than interrupt him. Wilson, Cuddy, and Cameron remained quiet as well, listening attentively and – in Cameron's case – sympathetically. Of course, House had a limited supply of sympathy. And he had even less sympathy once he realized the analogy that Sid was trying to create.

"So," he said, breaking his silence at last. "I still don't get what this has to do with me. Your wife and children were infected with a toxin that trashed their kidneys. There was no treatment. What did you expect me to do?"

"I expected you to _care_," Sid replied. "It took the doctors two weeks to figure out what was wrong. I know your reputation. They say you're the best there is. I sent the file to you every day for a week, waiting for you to reply and say you'd take my case. I even included pictures. By the time they figured out what was wrong, it was too late."

"Do you know how many cases I don't take? I'm as bad as the Supreme Court over here."

"But you could have saved them!" Sid exclaimed. House was displeased to see that the man was becoming more deranged as this discussion progressed. He hoped that Sid would have the common sense not to do anything irrational – well, _more_ irrational than lock four doctors in a room together and point a gun at them. "You could have diagnosed them. We lived right here in New Jersey. I could have had them transferred here, if you had just taken the case. If you had seen them, you would have known – you could have saved them."

"No, I couldn't," House snapped. "I can't magically diagnose people by looking at them. It would have taken me time to diagnose them, too. And they probably still would have died. There was no treatment."

"My wife refuses to look at me. She blames me. She thinks that I killed our children," he insisted.

"Then she's just as big of an idiot as you. She can't blame you for saving her life. That's completely irrational. One of your children couldn't be saved anyway. Her blood type didn't match yours."

"Don't you think I know that?" Sid retorted. "Don't you think I've tried to tell her that? That's why it's _your_ fault that Emma died. If you had diagnosed her sooner – if you had diagnosed all of them sooner – she wouldn't have needed a transplant at all."

"Why did you choose to save your wife?" House asked, cutting across his monologue. "The choice between your child and your wife and you saved your wife. No marriage is that good." He deliberately avoided looking at Cuddy as he spoke. "No mother tells you to save them instead of their child. Why did you save her?"

"You – don't you dare – you don't-" Sid spluttered. "Don't you dare talk about my wife that way! Don't you dare blame me for loving her. I couldn't leave her; I couldn't let her die. Don't tell me that if you faced the same choice, you wouldn't make the same one."

"That is exactly what you're asking me to tell you, though, right?" House pointed out. "You're asking me to make a decision between three lives, none of which are in danger."

"What would you do?"

"No," House said, shaking his head. "I'm not telling you what I would do. Not yet. But," he continued, still pointedly avoiding Cuddy's eye, "I would take into account what my…wife had wanted. If she told me to save my child, I would take her opinion into account. I can see why she blames you."

"Don't say that!" Sid screamed.

"_You_ didn't kill your family. They died from a toxin."

"My wife and daughter needed a kidney transplant, and I was a match. My daughter died because I gave the kidney to my wife."

"But you didn't _kill_ her," House insisted. "You just let her die."

"It's the same thing," Sid spat. "My wife won't talk to me. She acts as though I killed our daughter. She can't even stand to look at me. She moved out of the house one week later. I saved her life, and she won't even _look_ at me!" He raised the gun again. "Tell me who to kill. I told you why I'm doing this, now give me your decision. I want you to know what it's like. I want you to know what it's like to not be able to save someone that you love. I want you to know what it feels like to watch them die right in front of you, and you watch, powerless, knowing that there is nothing you can do to save them. I want to know – would you girlfriend forgive you if you saved her instead of your best friend? Would he forgive you if you saved him instead of her? I want you to find out. I want you to make that choice."

House could see that Sid was growing more and more agitated, and his fear that Sid would do something inadvertently stupid increased. He quickly stole a glance at Cuddy, and he could see that she was watching the scene with more uncertainty than before. She didn't look back at him. She was focused intently on the gun in Sid's hand. Despite himself, he found himself once again wondering what she would say if they didn't all make it out of this alive. Was Sid right? Would she blame him for someone else's death, even when he had no choice?

"I can't," House replied quietly. "Too many people have suffered already."

"Tell me who to shoot."

"No."

The gun shook slightly in his hand. "Tell me," he demanded.

"What difference would it make? It won't bring your kids back. It won't make your wife talk to you again."

"You'll know what it feels like."

"But that's not true," House pointed out. "You're asking me to tell you who to kill. It's completely different. The decision _you_ had to make was to decide who to let die. I've made that decision before. Sometimes, there are too many patients to treat and you can only save so many of them. You can only do so much. Asking me to tell you to shoot someone is completely different. Then I would be the direct cause of their death. Whatever your wife says, you did not cause your children to die. They died of a kidney toxin."

"There is no difference!"

"There _is_," House insisted.

"You've never cared before about who you were killing or letting die. You've never made a choice between people that you've actually loved. I want you to make that choice. Tell me who to shoot!"

"No."

"Tell me!"

"No," he insisted, louder. "I'm not going to cause someone else to die. That won't make you feel better. That won't satisfy the conditions of your game. I am not going to tell you what to do. I am not-"

But House suddenly fell silent as he saw the muscles in Sid's arm squeeze and then release. Immediately, he turned to look at the three hostages. Wilson's face didn't tell him much; he seemed confused, too, as though he didn't know why House had stopped talking. But when he looked at Cuddy, he could see that something had happened. And then he realized that he hadn't heard the sound of the silenced bullet being released over noise of the argument he had been making. And, he realized with a pang of horror, this time, the bullet had been intended to hit someone and it hadn't missed his mark.

He waited, frozen in a split second of time in which disbelief rattled his senses, and then he saw the red beginning to stain the white linoleum floor, and realized that he had pushed Sid to his limit at last.

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**A/N:** Uh oh...who do you think was shot? And how bad is the damage? Chapter 5 is almost done, so chapter 4 will probably be posted sometime next week. In the meantime, reviews make great food for muse's thought!


	4. Intervening Variables

**Disclaimer:** Nothing is mine.

**A/N:** I'm sorry it took me longer to update than usual. I started some new medication and it appears to be stifling my muse, as I am really struggling to find inspiration. Hopefully updating again will jump-start the writing. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter, especially my anonymous reviewers. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I think it's my favorite so far.

**A/N:** Thanks to Melissa for being awesome.

* * *

It took House a moment to register exactly what had happened, but once it did, several events happened in quick succession.

Cuddy was the first to react. As soon as she had realized what happened, she moved immediately to Cameron, her hands pressing on the wound. House could see the blood flowing freely from her thigh, and his mind went on fast-forward as he tried to assess the damage a gunshot to the leg could cause, and how much time that would have before it became life-threatening. He saw Cuddy checking to see if the bullet had gone through, and he saw the worried expression on her face when she saw that it hadn't.

"Lay her down," House instructed.

He saw Wilson dart forward for Cuddy's pager on the ground, but before he could reach it, Sid raised his gun again and pointed it at Wilson. "Don't you dare."

"Dr. Cameron is really hurt," Wilson tried to tell him calmly. "She needs to get out of here. There was no exit wound, which means the bullet is still inside her. She needs surgery." His fingers fumbled with the pager buttons.

"No!" Sid snapped. Sensing that Wilson would not be deterred by a gun to his own head, he moved the gun to Cuddy's instead. House felt his insides seizing with anger, and it took all his will power to stop himself from darting forward and choking the life out of Sid himself.

"Wilson," House warned. Cuddy was still focused on Cameron and hadn't looked up to see where the gun was pointed. Wilson looked worriedly from Cuddy to Cameron, and then to House. Finally, he handed the pager to Sid. His hands free, he moved forward to help Cuddy stop the bleeding.

"And your own," Sid reminded him. Wilson didn't take his eyes off Cameron's leg as he dug the pager from his pocket and held it out for Sid to take. Sid grabbed both pagers, took out the batteries, and then smashed them on the ground with his foot.

House realized then that his own pager was still clipped to his belt. He reached for it slowly, not wanting to startle Sid, but it seemed that Sid had not forgotten about the other pager. As soon as he was done destroying the others, he reached out his gun-free hand to House. With the other, he aimed the gun at Cuddy again. "Let's have it."

He knew he had little choice. Even with the pager, Sid wouldn't let any help enter the room, not without some kind of sacrifice, and House was still not ready to make a decision. Handing over the pager might complicate matters by eliminating a potential escape route; on the other hand, disconnecting them from the outside world might give him more time to force a mistake.

He just hoped Cameron would have enough time.

House threw his pager against the wall. It smashed on contact and broke apart. He turned to Cuddy. "Talk to me."

"Bullet missed the major arteries, but she's losing blood fast," Cuddy informed him rapidly. She didn't tell him there was no exit wound, but he already knew that was true.

"Is she conscious?"

"Yes," Cuddy answered shortly. Instantly, he wished he hadn't asked. He didn't want to look at Cameron's wide, pleading eyes as she begged him to do something to help her.

"Then get away from her."

House's head snapped toward Sid. "_What_?"

"Get away from her. If she's still conscious, she isn't dying, and if she's not dying, she doesn't need their help."

"Do you mix the stupid powder in with your orange juice, or do you just sniff it plain?" House snapped. "You don't have to be unconscious to be dying. If they move their hands, she's going to bleed out."

"How long do you think that would take?"

"I don't know."

"Guess. More or less than five minutes?"

"Probably more."

"Okay then," Sid said, raising his gun again. "I guess you'll have at least five minutes to figure it out. Now, get back!"

House briefly saw Cuddy exchange a look with Wilson, and he could tell they were thinking along the same lines. Neither of them moved.

"You're not going to shoot them," House pointed out. "You want me to decide who to save. You can't keep randomly shooting at them. Then I would never have to make a choice."

"That's what you'd like, isn't it?" Sid said, sneering. "You want me to shoot them randomly so that you don't have to make a decision. You don't want to decide. You don't know how to."

House opened his mouth to reply, but he realized he couldn't deny the truth in Sid's words. He still hadn't figured out how to decide. Or, rather, he hadn't had the chance to fully rationalize the worth of each person. Despite his inclination toward rational choice, his insides clenched at the thought of trying to calculate "worth" when the lives were on the line. He hated to admit it, but Sid was right: There would be consequences to any decision he made. On the other hand, there would also be consequences if he _didn't_ make a decision. He chanced a glance at Cameron. He was somewhat mollified to see that Cuddy and Wilson had managed to control the bleeding, but he knew that if they were forced to move, she would probably start bleeding out again.

"No answer for me?" Sid taunted. "You barely know her. You said she was a former employee. How former is former? When was the last time you saw her, anyway?" He inched closer, the gun still raised. "You are the infamous House. You have no emotions. You don't care about anyone. Except for maybe these two." He gestured with his free hand toward Wilson and Cuddy. "I'm pointing the gun at his head and you still haven't told them to back off. You don't want her to die."

"I don't want anyone to suffer."

"But she's suffering right now, isn't she? A gunshot to the leg must be very painful. Wouldn't it be better if we put her out of her misery?"

"You can't kill her," House warned him as Sid took yet another step closer to the three other doctors.

"You're choosing to save her?"

"It wouldn't satisfy the conditions of your game," House responded, purposefully avoiding a direct answer to Sid's question. "She's more than one person. She's pregnant."

Sid considered this. Finally, he said, "I guess that's just one more factor for you to take into account. An additional death on your hands. Or an additional life you could save, if you really are as _nice_ as you're insisting."

House looked at Cuddy and tried to read the expression on her face. She was clearly shaken by the fact Sid had actually used his gun, but he could also tell that she still expected House to come up with a solution that would change the odds and get them all out of there alive. He wondered if she had come up with any such solutions. Wilson's eyes were transfixed on Cameron, and House suddenly found himself hoping that Wilson would not do anything stupidly heroic if she took a turn for the worse.

"You said that you wanted me to decide who to save," House said at last, "by determining who you should kill. But don't you see the difference? Your family was dying. Your kidney could save them – one of them. By asking me to tell you who to kill, you're asking me a completely different question than the one you faced. If you hadn't given your kidney to your wife, she would have continued dying. But the people in this situation aren't dying. If I take no action, they'll all continue living."

Sid was silent as he mulled over House's words. Then he smiled. "You want it to be a question of saving people who would otherwise die? I could arrange that – I could shoot all of them. Is that what you want me to do?" Before House could stop him, Sid raised the gun and fired again. The round lodged itself in the wall, barely missing Cuddy's back. She whirled around at the sound of the bullet hitting the plaster and stared at House, her fear finally visible on her face.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Sid asked. "Next time I'll be sure to aim better." As if to demonstrate his point, he took aim again. "Ready, set, fi-"

"All right," House said loudly. "All right, you're right. I don't want you to shoot them all. One is bad enough."

"You're right," Sid agreed, "one is enough. Hopefully _enough_ incentive for you to finally make your decision. But just in case it's not, I'm going to give you a little extra incentive. I'm going to count to five again. If your friends haven't backed away by then, I'm pulling the trigger on both of them and you can have your wish of choosing who to save, medical-style. I'm told doctors only have one set of hands, which means you'll only be able to stop the bleeding on one of them. If they do back away, then maybe it'll give you an incentive to answer the question. If not, the choice will be made for you, and your former employee and her baby will be dead. What would your girlfriend say about that?"

House didn't even need to look at Cuddy to know what she would say.

"One."

He saw Sid eyeing the trigger of the gun with morbid fascination, and he knew that he might have dug himself into a deep hole.

"Two."

He wouldn't be able to save them all, if they were all bleeding out at the same time. It would be medically impossible, even for him.

"Three."

The bleeding did seem to be under control. If Cameron were conscious, she could control the bleeding herself. Hopefully. He knew it was a risk, but he couldn't let Sid shoot them all.

"Four."

He knew the fact the bullet was still inside her was dangerous, too, but there was no chance of her leaving the room in the immediate future for surgery. Not unless he made a decision. And to make a decision he would need time. And he would need for Cuddy and Wilson to be alive and well. He did not want the choice to be made for him, and he refused to accept this would end in someone's death. He knew he was putting Cameron at risk, but there was a chance she wouldn't die, whereas there was no chance of Sid not pulling the trigger and mortally wounding someone else in approximately the next three seconds.

God, he hated himself for doing this.

He shook his head at Sid before the latter could reach the final number. Disgusted with himself, looking anywhere but at them as he spoke, he muttered, "Step back."

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**A/N:** Chapter 5 is written, but chapter 6 is nowhere close to being done. I'll try to get on that. You can help by submitting a review and telling me what you thought!


	5. Zero Sum

**Disclaimer:** Nada es mio.

**A/N:** All right...standard apology for taking so long in updating. It's finals time for me (and my beta), which makes time to writing scarce. Chapter 6 consequently took a long time to get together. However, good news! A very long, detailed plot outline has been written for the remainder of the story, so that might speed up the updating. Thank you so, so much to everyone who reviewed last time, especially justpassing - your review was one of the best I have ever received and it totally made my day.

**A/N: **Brains and porcupines for Melissa!

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An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. House kept his eyes trained on the floor, not wanting to meet anyone's eyes. No one spoke, not even Sid. He could tell that Cuddy and Wilson hadn't moved yet, and he wondered how much time Sid would give them before he began to wave his gun around again. House knew that they would be disinclined to step away from Cameron, but he also hoped that they realized they really had no choice.

Finally, the silence was broken.

"It's okay," he heard Cameron say. He looked up in time to see her move her hands toward her leg, trying to push Cuddy's and Wilson's hands out of the way. "It's okay, it'll be fine."

He saw Wilson and Cuddy exchange uneasy looks.

"You can't even reach your leg," Cuddy pointed out. "You're too far along."

"Help me sit up, then," she replied. House could hear impatience in her tone; she wanted them to comply with House's decision as quickly as possible. He felt a twinge of annoyance at her blind faith in his decision – _he_ still wasn't sure it was the right one.

She managed to reach her leg when she was sitting upright with her back against the wall. "The bleeding is under control," she assured them quietly. "You should listen to House. He knows what he's doing."

"You heard her, now get back!" Sid ordered. Cuddy looked at House. He stared back, trying to communicate silently that he wanted her to move. She seemed to understand because she slowly stood up and took a few tentative steps. Wilson didn't even look at him.

"Wilson," Cameron said softly. "You should step back, too." She took one of her hands off her leg and touched his arm, staining his sleeve with blood. House saw him meet her eyes. "It's okay," she repeated. "I'm okay."

House wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. He knew Wilson wouldn't listen to him anyway. If he were going to listen to anyone, it would be Cameron. Sure enough, he saw Wilson slowly pulling back from Cameron and rising. Although House couldn't see his face, he was sure Wilson was still uncertain about his decision.

"Get over there," Sid said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "I want you away from her." The choice had already been made. Cuddy and Wilson backed away silently, knowing there was no point in argument. Sid waited until they were both standing in the opposite corner before turning back to House. "No one touches her again until you've made your decision."

"Aye, aye, captain," House replied, raising his hand in mock salute. House hoisted himself onto the exam chair again and leaned back to think.

Here he was again, faced with the confines of rational choice theory. He silently chastised himself for making the situation more difficult. Whether or not Sid realized it, there was a more direct choice now than there had been before: He knew Cameron only had so much time. He didn't know where that bullet was, or where it was moving, but he knew he would have to make a decision – any decision – as quickly as possible.

He tried to recall his system of utils, but he already knew what that result would be. If he were to directly compare her util count to either Wilson's or Cuddy's, hers would have to be lower. The rational decision, then, would be not to exchange one of their lives for hers.

He glanced behind him at Wilson and Cuddy. Both of them were staring at Cameron, anxious expressions on their face. If she died, it would affect their lives, too. Not because they were particularly close to her, but because any death would have an effect them, especially the death of a former colleague or employee. Her death would probably affect the lives of her former teammates even more. Foreman had generally liked her, and Chase perhaps too much so – _damn_.

He had forgotten the baby.

By simple calculation, Cameron was worth two people, and two people were more than one person. If she died, it would mean the death of the baby, too. He didn't know how far along she was, but he could tell it was the third trimester. Did it matter whose baby it was? He assumed Chase's, but now that he thought about it, it had been more than eight months since Cameron had been in the hospital. As far as he knew, Chase hadn't been to see her, either. The baby couldn't possibly be his. If it weren't Chase's baby, then its death would not affect his life in any way.

But what if it really were Chase's baby? He chanced a glance up at Cameron. She seemed to be holding her own – at least, the bullet hadn't done any meaningful damage yet. She was staring at the ceiling, avoiding having to look at the damage the bullet had caused. He wasn't sure how it could be possible, but he should at least ask to make sure.

"Whose bun is in your oven?"

Cameron tilted her head down and looked at him. "It's Chase's."

He raised his eyebrows. "Belated honeymoon down under?"

"Exam room."

He cringed. "_Sick_ people use those rooms, you know. Did you at least sterilize it afterward?"

"It happened during the lockdown," she replied. He saw her shift her weight so she could more comfortably press her hands to her wound. "I…came with the divorce papers," she muttered.

"The cruel irony of break-up sex. "

"I came to tell him."

"He doesn't know?" She shook her head. "Does he even know you're here now?"

"No."

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, as though he could find divine guidance in the bits of plaster. He was struck by the thought that this was the longest Sid had stayed quiet the entire time they had been in the room. He did not look at him, though, for fear he would betray his indecision. Indecision was his weakness, and he would not give anyone that power over him.

"What do you want me to do?"

The words fell from his lips before he could stop them. He hadn't meant to say them aloud, but the atmosphere in the room changed once they had been uttered. Everyone was suddenly alert, listening for the reply. Although he hadn't meant to ask her, the thought of taking her opinion into account seemed somewhat appealing. After all, hadn't he told Sid that he should have listened to his wife when she told him to save their daughter?

"Don't answer that," Sid said gruffly. He turned to House. "You're supposed to make the decision on your own."

"_You_ didn't make the decision on your own," House informed him. "You consulted your wife. I want to consult people, too. And unlike you, I plan to take their opinion into account."

He could see the muscles in Sid's face tense in anger, but ultimately, he relented. House watched to see if he would do anything else, and then turned back to Cameron. He didn't need to ask the question again.

"I want you to save us all," she replied immediately.

"Don't know that I can." He should have known better. Of course Cameron would never be able to make this decision.

"There has to be a way," she insisted. "You won't have to choose. Someone will figure out that we're in here. You three can't go missing for that long."

House checked his watch. They had been in the room for nearly an hour. But with their pagers broken, even if someone did need to find them, they wouldn't be able to. Still, maybe she had a point. Someone had to have seen at least one of them enter the exam room.

"But if they don't?" he had to ask.

He saw her considering this possibility, her gaze no longer on him, but on her abdomen. He suddenly found himself hoping that she wouldn't be so naïve as to do what he thought she was going to do, but a moment later, she spoke again, and his fears were confirmed.

"Chase has to know," she began quietly. "This is his baby. He has to know that it's his, so that our son will have a father." She swallowed. "The baby has to be saved, but after that…" She didn't need to finish.

"Why?"

Cameron smiled sadly at him. "Because I don't make you as happy as Cuddy or Wilson."

"No!" Wilson objected suddenly. "House, you can't let her do this."

House wanted to protest, but no words came to him. He tried to read Cameron's expression, but it was inscrutable. He had seen her put herself on the chopping block before – once, several years ago, when she had resigned to avoid his firing someone – but this situation was about something much more serious than a job; it was about her life. He found it hard to believe that she would be so willing to sacrifice herself when the consequence for doing so was so high.

"House, no!" Cuddy exclaimed, interpreting his silence as consent. "Cameron, we will find a way out of this-"

"Robert Chase is my ex-husband," Cameron began, interrupting Cuddy. For the first time, she spoke directly to Sid. "He works in this hospital. I'm carrying his son, but he doesn't know yet. Please," she begged, "please let me tell him about the baby." House glanced between Cameron and Sid, trying to determine whether or not Sid would go for this. So far, he seemed to be listening. "Please just let me call him and tell him about his son. Once he knows it's his, they can perform a C-section and take the baby."

House looked at Cameron, willing her not to say what he knew she was going to say. He knew she could feel his eyes on her, but she didn't look at him.

Her gaze flickered down to her leg and then back to Sid. "The baby should be old enough to survive. If it does…then you can shoot me."

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**A/N: **Chapter 7 has not been started, although I do know what happens - and you are not going to like it! Chapter 6 will explain why. I will post chapter 6 sometime next week. This time next week, I will be completely done with finals. In the meantime, submit a review and wish me luck with studying and writing!


	6. Sucker Cost

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Maybe for Christmas? -winks at Santa-

**A/N:** I suck. I'm so sorry for not updating sooner. Long story short, the update was delayed because of finals, writer's block, and one nasty cold. Anyway, I'm really sorry, and I'm really going to try to write faster so that you guys don't have to wait as long. Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter, and for the luck on my finals - they all went really well! To my anonymous reviewers, thank you so much, too!

**A/N:** Melissa, I still want cookies! But thanks for beta'ing cookie-less anyway.

**For Zoi. Please get better soon!

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**

A stunned silence filled the room at Cameron's words. Even Sid didn't seem to know how to respond. He clearly had not considered the possibility of one of the doctors being willing to sacrifice themselves. He shuffled his feet, eyeing his gun uncertainly, as though unsure he should really use it.

House reflected that if Cameron died, it would now have been her own decision, and not his. Despite her util count being the lowest, he could never have chosen her death himself, but her choosing it was a different matter. His lips hinted at a twisted smile. Sid still hadn't got what he had wanted. Even though Sid would be getting closer to the end result he wanted, her death would still not have forced House to make a decision.

"Sounds good," House said brightly, sliding off the exam room table. "I'll get the phone, shall I?"

Cuddy and Wilson burst into angry protests, but Sid's voice cut across theirs. "No!" he yelled, just as House was reaching for the receiver. "I haven't agreed to her deal yet."

"Who said it was your decision?" House objected. "This whole scenario is about making it _my_ decision. And _I_ decide to take her deal. It sounds reasonable, and it's what she wants. What else is there to think about?"

"Her deal changes the rules," Sid responded. "I get to decide whether or not the rules can be changed. That makes this my decision."

"Fair enough," said House. "I don't want to be a murderer anyway." He saw Sid's body tense at the word, and decided to taunt him further. "What, you don't want me to call you that? You're offering to kill whoever I tell you to shoot. How does that _not_ make you a murderer?"

"I am not – this isn't – not-" Sid spluttered. House couldn't help but feel a flicker of triumph.

"Please," Cameron interrupted, her voice sounding slightly strangled. "I just need to talk to Chase. I haven't spoken to him in months. He has to know this is his baby."

"Why didn't you tell him before, then?" Sid asked. "Why did you come back and not even tell him?"

House turned his head curiously in Sid's direction. He could hear the hint of bitter resentment in Sid's voice and knew that he must have been thinking about his wife.

"I…" She seemed to recoil under Sid's inquisitive, almost accusatory, stare. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Sid taunted. "I think that settles that."

"No, wait!" Cameron exclaimed. "Please, you have to give me this chance. To apologize to him, for not telling him sooner, for everything that I've done. I know I can't explain why I didn't tell him, but I'm here now, and that's what matters. Please let me tell him."

House sensed that Sid might be warming to Cameron's request on his own, but decided to urge him along all the same. "If this were your wife-"

"House!" Wilson interjected. "You're not seriously going through with this?"

"Why not?" he asked. "It's what she wants."

"No, it isn't!" Wilson exclaimed. "She's _desperate_." He turned to Cameron. "You don't have to do this. Think about your son. Think about Chase. You have too much to live for. You can't die."

House looked back. Cameron's expression was scared, but he could also see it was determined. She met his eyes, giving him the slightest of nods. House knew then that Wilson had lost. He cleared his throat loudly. "As I was saying, if _your_ wife wanted to reconcile with you, but some crazy murderer who stole his name from an outdated rock band prevented her from doing it, and then you found out about it…how would _you_ feel? I think I'd be pretty pissed myself."

"Don't you_ dare_ talk to me about my wife!"

"Sid," Cameron said softly. House realized it was the first time anyone in the room had called Sid by his first name. Sid turned toward her, visibly surprised by this sudden show of humanity. "I'm sorry about your wife, I really am, but please don't force me to make the same mistake she did." House saw Cameron readjust her hands over her injury and he felt a painful twinge of urgency. "Chase is here, in this hospital," she continued. "I know how to reach him. House can make the call and put him on speaker phone, so you can hear what he's saying, too."

Sid considered this. "You can't tell him where you are."

"I won't," Cameron assured him.

"And if he asks?"

"I'll lie." If he weren't so concerned with establishing contact with someone outside of the exam room, House would have called bullshit on that one.

There was another long pause. Then –

"Okay," Sid relented. "Okay, you can call him. On speaker phone. You tell him about the baby only. And then you hang up and we start this – this C-section."

"House," Cuddy intoned. "We're not going to do this. _You_ can't do this."

He didn't turn around to look at her. He knew that Cameron's mind was set.

"This is a mistake!" Cuddy cried. "She's never going to be able to go through with it once Chase hears about their son-"

"Cuddy," House said loudly, cutting across her. "Shut up." He didn't need her to tell him Cameron that wouldn't go through with the C-section. In fact, he was counting on it. Nothing mattered more to him than getting Chase on the phone, establishing a connection with someone outside of the room - if Sid became scared the deal wasn't going to work, he would cut off their only access of communication. Before Cuddy could say another word, House strode over to the phone and took the receiver off the hook. "Shall I do the honors?" He punched in a number and then hit the speaker phone button. He placed the phone on the ground next to Cameron.

"No one says a word except her," Sid warned as the phone rang.

"Hello?"

House registered the emotion filling Cameron's face. He wondered how long it had been since she had heard Chase's voice. Sid shot her a warning look, and House was relieved to see that Cameron recovered quickly.

"Chase, it's me." House could tell she was fighting to keep her voice steady.

"Allison?" The shock in his voice was almost painfully evident. "Why are you - this isn't a good time. House is missing and we can't get a hold of Wilson or Cuddy. I'm really busy – do we have to do this now?"

"I-" She was obviously taken aback by the shortness of his tone. "I – it's really important."

"I'm sorry, but I don't have time for this." He sighed. "Look, I'll call you back, all right? When things have calmed down."

"No – Chase – wait-"

"I really have to go. I'll call you." There was a click before the line went dead.

"Well, I'd say that went rather well," Sid sneered. "Looks like someone doesn't want you adding salt to his wounds."

"_Au contraire_," said House. "I believe that went rather well indeed."

Sid's eyes narrowed. "How'd you figure?"

"Chase may be mostly brawn, but there are some brains up there, too. His cell phone has caller ID, and he'll recognize the number from the clinic. His curiosity has been peaked. He's like a puppy. Even though his master has beaten him down a few times, he always comes back. And his master is sitting in this room."

Sid rounded on Cameron. "You tricked me!"

"Wrong again," replied House. "She actually is as much of as a self-sacrificing idiot as she said she'd be. I, on the other hand, went along with your plan because I knew it would bring Chase here. That, and because now we have information from the outside. My team is looking for me. Them, too," he added, gesturing to Cuddy and Wilson. "And now Chase will be looking for her. Security won't be far behind."

Perhaps Sid noticed the signs of relief on the faces of his hostages, for he gripped his gun with renewed vigor. "You are _not_ getting out of this," he growled at House. "You will make a decision. There is no way out for you. Even if security does show up, I'm not letting any of you out until two of your friends are dead."

"You know that won't work," House said. "Security will bust down the door before you have the chance to shoot any of them. At most, you'd get off one shot, so at most, only one of them is going to die." He gave a satisfied smile. "You're clearly not much at gambling, but even you can probably tell the odds are no longer in your favor."

"I could shoot someone else right now," Sid threatened, the gun quivering in his hand. "I could shoot someone else and then you'd have to choose who to save."

"But you won't," House reminded him, "because you want me to choose who you shoot. You already eliminated one of my choices. If you eliminate another, you eliminate all of them." He could sense Sid's hesitation, and he chanced a step closer to him. "Give it up now," he said. "The game is up. Chase will be here any minute, and when he finds the clinic door locked, he's going to become suspicious."

"No!"

"The game is over! You made a mistake and you lost. You let someone from the outside know where we are. Drop the gun before you do anything else stupid."

"You think you've changed the odds of the game?" Sid yelled. "You think you've beaten me at my own game? Well, you're wrong! Because either way, I'm still the one holding the gun, which means I'm still in control."

"You're only in control as long as I say you are. I only tolerated your game so you'd be distracted enough to make a mistake. And look, you made one. Because you're just like everyone else." House leaned closer. "An idiot."

"House!" Cameron shrieked.

House whirled around, but he was too late. The bullet had already found its next target. And this time, he knew it was game over, not because he had to choose who to save, but because, judging from the brain matter spattered on the wall, the game had already been lost.

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**A/N:** Umm...-ducks- If you kill me, you will never know who is down for the count. Please review!


	7. A Single Play

**Disclaimer:** Oh look at that, I still own nothing.

**A/N:** Well...hi there. Hopefully some of you saw my author note so you know I didn't really abandon this story (or at least, I didn't avoid writing it for no reason). As it stands, I didn't actually finish the other story, or even make terrible amounts of progress on it. HOWEVER, I did finish this one. Yes - you read right, this story is officially done. All chapters except the last two are completely beta'd and ready to post. So, I will be posting them very quickly, do not fear. Think of it as a prize for your patience. Thank you very kindly to everyone who reviewed last time, especially my anonymous reviewers. You're all amazing.

I am also going to apologize for what happens in this chapter. I know it's not what most of you wanted, but...yeah. I'm sorry.

**A/N:** My lifeline, Melissa, I brain you.

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This could not have happened.

House was paralyzed, unable to do more than stare blankly as CPR was attempted. He knew the efforts were futile, but he could not bring himself to tell her to stop. He could hear Cameron crying quietly behind him and Sid scuffling his feet. He had eyes only for Cuddy, as she leaned over again and again, blowing air into now useless lungs.

"I didn't…I didn't…" Sid's voice sounded oddly strangled. "But I – I – I wasn't aiming for his – I was only trying to shoot his-"

"Shut up," House said through clenched teeth. "Just shut the hell up." His gaze stayed transfixed on Cuddy as he watched her continue CPR. He knew there was no chance, no hope at all, and he had known it from the beginning. The bullet had sliced through Wilson's head, killing him instantly. House found no comfort in the fact that his friend had died quickly, painlessly. The fact still remained that he was dead, and that was all that mattered.

Cuddy sat back on her heels, tears streaming down her face. She had given up. House wanted to say something, tell her to continue, but he couldn't. Cameron's sobs increased behind him, and House knew that she had seen it, too. Cuddy slowly reached out a hand and closed Wilson's eyes. Her hand lingered over his face, and she seemed unable to pull away. House fought the unwanted emotion welling in his chest as he watched her gently stroke Wilson's cheek. He saw her lean closer and whisper something in his ear. He couldn't hear the words, but he could imagine what they were. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…_

"Cuddy," he said quietly. He didn't step forward, couldn't bring himself to move any closer to Wilson's body. She did not turn to look at him. House tried to focus anywhere else but at Wilson, but it was impossible to ignore him. His best friend, his oldest friend…and now he was – had been –

"I'm – I'm sorry," Sid stammered. "I didn't mean-"

"You're sorry?" House rounded on him. "You're _sorry_? You shot a man point blank, and your aim was so good, his frontal lobe is splattered on the wall!"

"But I wasn't trying to – I was only aiming for his shoulder-"

"Your aim is beyond pathetic," House snapped, "if you think that a person's shoulder and head are the same thing. Missed just a few high school biology classes there, didn't we?"

"I didn't want to kill him," Sid protested. "I only wanted to hurt him so that-"

"If you didn't want anyone to die, perhaps you could have considered the route of not shooting anyone," House retorted. "Or better yet, not setting up this scenario in the first place. You came in here with a gun and told me to tell you who to kill. How did you not expect it to end in someone's death?"

"But you didn't care about him."

"Like hell I didn't!" House yelled. "You brought him here because you knew he was my friend." He felt anger, fear, and every other emotion that had been inside of him for the past two hours rising to the boiling point. He didn't care that he was screaming. "You can't do things like this. You can't just play with people's lives this way.

"You play with people's lives all the time," Sid interjected.

House gave an angry yell. "You think that because you've murdered my best friend, my decision is going to get easier? You think this will make me want to tell you to kill one of them even more? You're wrong. The only person I want to kill here is you!"

Sid's eyes flashed with anger. "None of this would have happened if you had just saved my family. You may not have told me to shoot your best friend, but you as good as caused his death when you couldn't make a choice. You could have saved him, could have sacrificed the lives of the other two people in the room. But you didn't. Instead, you made me kill him. It's _your_ fault that he's dead."

"Keep telling yourself that," House shot back. "Whatever you have to say to make yourself feel more like a man and less like a-"

He broke off at the sudden sound of knocking at the door. The room fell silent immediately. House exchanged a quick glance with Cuddy. Had security found them at last?

"Cameron?" It was Chase. "Are you in there?"

Cameron opened her mouth to reply, but Sid raised his gun and hissed, "Not a word."

"He already knows I'm in here," she pointed out quietly. House was surprised to hear the defiance in her tone, despite staring at the barrel of the gun.

Sid moved closer and pressed the gun to the side of her head. "He doesn't know anything, and if you give us away, I'm going to pull the trigger and you'll go the same way as him." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate Wilson.

"Don't do anything stupid," House warned. The words fell from his mouth before he could stop them.

Cameron rolled her eyes. "Never stopped me before, has it?"

"It's not worth it," House insisted. He wasn't sure why he was pushing this so much more now, but he knew he couldn't stand to see anyone else die before his eyes. Cameron wasn't thinking clearly; she couldn't rationalize the situation. He still could. He knew that Chase was outside and wouldn't leave until he spoke to her. If she never responded, he would no doubt sense something suspicious and run off to find security. If he just played his cards right, he could get the rest of them out of this situation alive.

"Wilson thought it was," Cameron whispered.

_Wilson was an idiot_, House replied automatically. Then he realized he hadn't actually said the words out loud.

House looked at her. Both of her hands were still pressed to the wound on her leg, so she hadn't been able to wipe the tears away from her cheeks. She was a mess. She had been willing to sacrifice herself to save her unborn child, and then had found out Sid never intended to let her save anyone, only to see one of her friends murdered right in front of her. And now she was still willing to allow herself to be killed because she felt some sense of…what, guilt? Love?

House shook his head. "You want to tell Chase about your son. What's the point of having him come into the room if all he's going to see is your dead body?"

"Cameron!" Chase called again, more urgently this time. "Cameron, I know you're in there. You said you had to talk to me, and I'm here now, so let's talk." He pounded on the door again. "Come on, I'm sorry I hung up on you, but don't be mad."

"Don't say anything," Sid told her, jabbing the gun to her skull again.

"Oh, what's the point?" House said, looking at Sid. "What's the point of not letting her answer? I'm sure he already heard my dulcet tones from across the hallway. Everyone knows we're here by now. " House could feel his frustration building again, but he fought to keep it down. Angering Sid further would not help with situation. With great effort, he said with forced calmness, "You don't want this to become messy. You don't want him to run off to find security, because then you're really going to be screwed. Just let her answer. What's the worst that could happen?"

Sid's eyes narrowed. "I could think of plenty things that could happen that I don't want to happen."

"Like what?" House challenged. "You might try to shoot someone in the shoulder, but miss and hit their head? Oh, wait, that already happened."

The gun shook slightly in Sid's hand. House could tell that he was making Sid nervous, although he wasn't entirely sure why. Sid steadied the gun in his hand and readjusted his grip on the trigger.

Cameron met House's gaze. He realized what she was going to do, but it was too late for him to stop her. She closed her eyes, waiting for Sid to pull the trigger.

"I'm here."

House frowned, watching for Sid's reaction. It seemed as though Sid hadn't realized what had happened. House wondered if Cameron had called loud enough for Chase to hear her, or if he were even still at the door. Sid finally seemed to register Cameron's words and made to fire, but a split second later, seemed to think better of it. Cameron hadn't noticed his indecision, and Cuddy hadn't been looking at Sid's hand. Only House seemed to have noticed that Sid's telling flinch.

* * *

**A/N:** Before I posted this chapter, I reread all the chapters remaining to be posted, and the action definitely really picks up. It's going to be extremely exciting! So review and come along for the ride! Oh - and also. I wrote a crackfic after the House episode on Monday (Chase's subplot begged for a crackfic, let's be honest) I'll post it if there's enough interest in reading something extremely OOC...for the characters and for me.


	8. Non Cooperation

**Disclaimer:** Nothing is mine.

**A/N:** Ha! I finally don't have to apologize for taking forever to post. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed last time...I am really, really sorry about killing Wilson, by the way. I know it really sucks. But if you're still hoping for a certain character to get shot, you might be in luck, as there will be two - count 'em - two more characters shot by the end of the story. No word on how many deaths though. That's between me and my muse. Heh.

**A/N: **To my favorite beta Melissa, I thank thee for thy work.

* * *

"Allison, open the door," Chase said, finally responding to her. Cameron's eyes flew open and she glanced at House nervously. Chase's pounding on the door resumed. "Open the door right now, or I'm calling security."

"You didn't shoot me," Cameron said, her words barely audible. Sid seemed to be frozen, surprised at his own hesitation, and House doubted that he had heard her speak at all.

Seizing the opportunity, Cuddy quickly rose to her feet and strode to the door. Just as she reached for the handle, Sid seemed to regain control of the situation. Raising his gun again, he warned, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Or you'll what?" Cuddy said. "You heard Dr. Chase. We have to open the door or he's calling security. You don't want that, do you?"

Despite himself, House felt an amused smile tugging at his lips. He had always enjoyed seeing Cuddy stand up to authority, even a self-imposed authority as illegitimate as this one.

"Or I'll shoot you," Sid finished.

Cuddy seemed almost bored of this routine. "I'll take my chances."

"Cuddy…" The name fell from Cameron's mouth uncertainly. "It's not worth it. Just let Chase get security. It will be okay."

Sid aimed the gun at House instead. "Still want to open the door?" he asked Cuddy.

House barely registered the gun pointing at his chest. Instead, he met Cuddy's eyes, and the understanding passed between them. He realized then that he had been wrong; Cuddy, too, had noticed Sid's indecision when Cameron had given away their location. It was the only way he could explain why she had suddenly become more defiant. He knew she would only have done that if she sensed the risk were low.

"Allison, if you don't open this door in the next two minutes, security is going to knock it down." Chase's voice sounded more insistent this time, and House was half-sure he wasn't kidding.

Sid glanced quickly between the door and Cameron. Cuddy still hadn't stepped away from the door, and House wondered why she didn't just yank it open. His answer came when he saw a flicker of uncertainty in Cuddy's expression. She may have thought the risk was low, but she couldn't be absolutely certain that Sid wouldn't shoot one of them if she pulled the door open. House inwardly sighed. Cuddy hardly ever took risks with patients without strong evidence to support the procedure, and she sure as hell would not take a risk that involved one of their lives based on inconclusive and minimal evidence. He almost chastised himself for thinking otherwise.

Sid had walked over to Cameron. Kneeling in front of her, he pressed the barrel of the gun directly onto her abdomen. House heard her sharp intake of breath. It was the closest Sid had been to her, and he could tell his closeness made her extremely nervous. He leaned closer to her then, whispering words into her ear that only she could hear, and House could see from the side of Cameron's face that she did not believe Sid was done shooting people yet, and that she would do whatever he was telling her to do in order to prevent the death of her unborn child.

Sid finally drew back, and Cameron exhaled a visible sigh of relief. "I'm okay," she called. "I'm okay, you don't – you don't have to get anyone."

"Who's in there with you?" Chase asked; his voice was full of suspicion.

House saw Cameron exchange a look with Sid. "No one," she responded. House could hear the fear in her voice and knew Chase would not miss it either.

"Are you sure you're all right? You sound like - like you're scared, or something."

"I'm fine!" Cameron insisted, and House could tell she was fighting to keep her voice steady now. Sid was glaring at her.

"Is House in there with you?"

"I – no, he's not," she answered quickly.

"Really?" Chase said skeptically. "I heard him yelling, and I thought it came from here."

Sid's face paled. House smirked at him as if to say, _I told you so._

"I want to come in."

Cameron's eyes widened. "Chase – no. That's not necessary. I'm fine, really. Everything is fine."

"You said you wanted to talk, that you had something to tell me. Something important. We're not going to have this conversation with me shouting through a door." He paused, and they could all hear him sighing loudly. "What are you doing in there anyway? Come on, just open the door."

"He's pretty insistent," House said lightly. "Maybe we should just let him in before he yells himself hoarse."

"You were never good at lying," Chase's voice came through the door again. "I don't think you're in there alone, and I don't think you're all right. I'm not leaving until you open this door and let me in, or at least until I can see for myself that you're fine. And I'm going to give you one last chance before I call security."

"You know, I think he really means it this time," remarked House.

Sid seemed to have realized the inevitability of the situation at last. House watched as he leaned toward Cameron again and hissed instructions into her ear. Cameron nodded, more ready than ever for him to get away from her. Sid slowly got to his feet and crept toward the door, the gun pointed at the ground. Cameron didn't speak until Sid was right next to the door.

"Is security with you now?" she asked.

"No," Chase answered, "but they will be in about two seconds if you don't open up."

"Okay," she said. "Okay, I'm going to unlock the door now, and you can come in."

Sid raised his gun and aimed it at the doorknob. With his other hand, he reached for the knob and slowly turned it so that the lock clicked. Keeping his hand on the knob, he raised the gun higher so that it would be level with Chase's chest, were he to enter the room. House frowned and glanced at Cameron. Surely she hadn't told Sid that he could shoot Chase as soon as he walked into the room?

"What are you doing?" Cameron hissed. "You said that you wouldn't hurt him!"

The door opened. House kept his eyes trained on the gun as Chase stepped over the threshold. As soon as he was inside, Sid slammed the door shut behind him and threw him to the ground. House barely registered the sound of Cameron's cry behind him as he saw Sid holding the gun to the base of Chase's skull.

"What the hell are you doing?" Chase's muffled voice yelled. "What the – Cameron? Where are you?"

"I'm here," she said, her voice strangled by fear. Chase made to look up, but Sid forced his head down again.

"Does anyone know you're here?" Sid asked, pressing the gun more firmly into Chase's skull. "Answer me!"

"No – no one," Chase gasped.

"You didn't tell security where you were going?"

"No," he insisted. "I didn't, I didn't!"

At that, Sid relented. Removing the gun, he straightened up. House noticed again that Sid had refused to shoot, and wondered why the gun had been aimed at Chase in the first place, if he hadn't intended to shoot him as soon as he entered the room. Then it hit him: the gun had been meant as a security measure, to make sure that Chase hadn't been lying about the security team not being behind him. Sid wouldn't take any of them at their word.

Chase slowly got to his feet, eyes darting around the room at the strange surroundings. He looked at each person in turn, and then his gaze fell on Wilson. His eyes practically bulged out of his head, and he finally voiced the question that House had been wondering now for a long time.

"What the hell is going on here?"

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, so I know this chapter was shorter than some of the others, but the next one will be longer - AND more exciting! Stay tuned to find out who's biting the bullet next. In the meantime, please review!


	9. Ethical Egoism

**Disclaimer:** Nada est mine. Even in three languages.

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time...there weren't as many as usual, but I understand that chapter was a little slow in pace compared to more recent ones. This one picks up the pace again (read: another cliffhanger). Enjoy! Oh, and if you're looking for something light-hearted and fun, check out Bedside Manners (on my author page).

**A/N:** Much thanks, Melissa.

* * *

House kept his eyes trained on Sid as Chase slowly, incredulously, began to take in his surroundings. Sid was watching him with what appeared to be uncertain restraint, his fingers lightly wrapped around the trigger, as though itching to pull it, yet unable to do so. Instead, he seemed content to watch Chase look around the room, seeming to relish in the look of horror slowly filling his eyes.

"Allison," he breathed. He checked to see that Sid was no longer aiming the gun at him, and then darted across the room toward her. His eyes found the bullet hole on her leg, and House saw him inspecting the wound, and knew he had figured out that there wasn't an exit wound. Chase slipped his hands beneath hers so that they were covering the wound instead, and Cameron leaned toward him to rest her head on his shoulder.

"What happened?" Chase asked her in a shaky voice. "How did this happen?"

House glanced at Sid to see if he would try to prevent Cameron from answering, but it seemed like Sid had accepted that since Chase was already in the room, it would be fruitless to prevent him from learning anything. Sid did not meet House's gaze when he looked at him; he was staring at Chase and Cameron with an expression of…was it longing? House frowned.

"I – I–" Cameron was unable to answer, and House could tell that her resolve was breaking at last. She buried her face into Chase's shoulder as she began to cry. No one else spoke as the sounds of Cameron's sobs filled the room, not even Sid, who looked more uncomfortable than ever. Chase was unable to hug her, as both of his hands were on her leg, but he rested his head on top of hers in a makeshift embrace. House met Cuddy's eyes, and he was slightly surprised to see she was tearing up, too. He felt an almost painful urge to do something, to comfort her, but just as he was about to move toward her, Sid's voice stopped him.

"Right," he was muttering. "Yeah, right."

"Got something you want to share with the class, Sid?" House asked loudly.

Sid looked at him sullenly, but did not respond, although he did fall silent. House noticed he was still watching Chase and Cameron with something of a glare on his face, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. House checked to see that Sid's fingers were not becoming too trigger-happy, and was mollified to see that Sid had relaxed his grasp on the weapon. He decided to take advantage of Sid's silence by answering Chase's question.

"It's supposed to be a social experiment," House explained. "A contest to see who can be a biggest idiot the fastest. Winner gets a bullet as a prize." The sarcasm that came to him so naturally felt almost foreign to his ears; it felt wrong to make light of a situation that had ended with his best friend dead.

As though Chase had heard House's thoughts, he asked, "Is that what happened to Wilson?"

"Not exactly," House responded. "Wilson was the victim of someone who failed high school biology, and probably a few other classes, all things considered."

Chase looked at Sid appraisingly before turning back to House. "I don't understand."

"Typical," House couldn't stop himself from muttering.

"Why – why are you here?" Chase continued, ignoring House. "How did he get all of you in a room together…with a gun…."

"I was already here." Cameron drew back from Chase, having found her voice at last. "I was here with Cuddy, and he followed us in," she explained. "He made Cuddy page Wilson and House."

"But – why?" Chase asked uncomprehendingly.

"Why does anyone ever hold a gun to my head?" House asked. "They either want me to diagnose someone, or they're upset that I didn't diagnose someone. I just can't win."

"I don't remember him as a patient," Chase said. "Or even a potential one."

"He obviously wasn't a patient, since that's why he's here. His wife and kids all had some disease that trashed their kidneys, and he thinks we could have diagnosed it in time to treat and spare the lives of the kids."

"They couldn't get a transplant?"

House scoffed. "Well, that's the question, isn't it?"

"Only one daughter and the wife were a match," Cuddy explained. "And he chose to give the kidney to the wife. Both children died."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Chase said mechanically to Sid, "but I don't understand what this has to do with us. Holding House hostage won't bring your family back."

"I know that," Sid snapped. House was slightly disconcerted to hear that Sid's tone had become more agitated. "I'm not stupid."

"You're doing a really good impression of it," House interjected.

"Enough!" Sid screamed. He pointed to Cameron. "I gave you what you wanted. Now, let's get on with it. I want that baby out in ten minutes."

Chase turned back to Cameron. "What's he talking about?"

Cameron swallowed nervously. "That's – that's what I wanted to tell you on the phone. I'm pregnant."

"I can see that," Chase replied, a slight edge to his voice. "Is it – who's the father?"

"You are," she whispered.

House watched as Chase blinked, trying to comprehend. Then it clicked. "During the lockdown?" he asked. She nodded. "And you came back to – to tell me?"

Cameron nodded again. "I'm so sorry," she said in a rush. "I should have told you sooner, should have called or written or – or something. But I didn't know how to tell you, and I'd just made you sign the divorce papers – I thought that you needed space…I'm really sorry," she finished.

"It's okay," Chase replied softly. "I understand."

"All right then," Sid said, moving toward them. "You've told him, and a deal's a deal. Your son will have a father." He looked around at House. "Where are the supplies?"

"Wait!" Chase exclaimed. "Wait – what are you – you're not having a C-section now, are you?"

"She is, actually," Sid answered before Cameron could explain. "She agreed that if I allowed her to tell you about the baby, she would do the C-section, and then allow me to kill her."

House felt a twinge of nervousness; he hadn't actually intended for her to go through with the plan. He didn't look around the room for the supplies (though he knew they wouldn't be there anyway), but continued to watch Sid cautiously. His reaction, however, was nothing compared to Chase's.

"What?" he yelled. "You – you can't! Why? Why would you do that?"

Cameron's eyes were glistening with tears again. "Because someone has to. He won't let anyone go until two of us are dead."

"But why you?" Chase asked desperately. "You're pregnant, it's not right!"

"Please understand," Cameron begged. "I've been shot and everyone has already risked their lives to keep me from bleeding out. I don't want anyone else to die." House noted that she didn't add the justification she had used in her explanation before, about him and Cuddy, but was unsurprised when Chase noticed that her calculations were leaving out someone.

"But what about me?" He sounded close to tears himself. "What am I supposed to do?"

"You're supposed to raise our son," Cameron answered quietly. House saw her squeeze one of Chase's hands that was still covering the wound on her leg. "That's why I told you. Please, Chase, just let me do this."

"Allison, if you love me, you won't do this," he pleaded. "Please don't do this to me, don't do this to our son-"

"Enough!" Sid screamed. He had raised the gun again, his face livid, and his whole body shook with rage. "Shut up!" he snapped at Chase. "Shut up, shut up, _shut up_! Listen to yourself, you sound pathetic! Your wife never loved you; she just used you for sex, the filthy whore. You said it yourself: If she loved you, she wouldn't be killing herself to save someone else."

"No! Robert, please, that's not true-"

"Shut up!" Sid screamed again, this time at Cameron. "You ungrateful bitch. I gave you everything, _everything!_ And you wouldn't do anything for me in return. You won't even speak to me!"

House's eyes narrowed. Cameron seemed too stunned to move, let alone have been listening carefully enough to Sid's yelling to notice that he no longer seemed to be talking about her. The gun in Sid's hand was shaking harder than ever, but he had placed both hands on the trigger now. Warily, House took a step forward.

"I saved my wife's life," Sid was raving. "She would have died without my kidney, and I gave it to her, and all she cares about is the fact I didn't save the children instead. But don't you understand, I don't love the children the same way I love her. And _he_ doesn't love your son the same way he loves you. Why can't you see that? Why are you so willing to die?"

"I'm dying to save my son," Cameron responded quietly. House groaned inwardly. "It's instinct. We protect our young – your wife was only trying to get you to do the same thing."

"Don't – talk – about – my – wife!" Sid shrieked. "She's dead to me, just like I'm dead to her. Do you hear me? She is nothing to me – _nothing_! She's as good as dead!"

House realized what Sid was going to do an instant too late. Sid had pulled the trigger at last. The sound of Sid's laughter, loud and maniacal, filled the room over the sound of the bullet making contact with flesh.

"And now you're dead to me, too."

* * *

**A/N:** If you kill me, you won't find out who it was! If you don't review, you won't find out either.


	10. Dominant Strategy

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognize is mine.

**A/N:** Here you go, all you fabulous reviewers, you! One cliffhanger resolved, another remaining. BUT I promise this is the last one, because this is the second to last chapter. Enjoy!

**A/N:** Muchas gracias, Melissa.

* * *

"No!"

The cry was so full of anguish, House felt himself flinch. He couldn't bear to look, feeling the rare sensation of intruding upon something so deeply personal that it almost felt indecent. But he had to look, had to see what damage had been done this time, and what, if anything he could do. He was shocked Sid had fired the gun again. He had thought – suspected – there was only one bullet left; it was the only way he could explain why Sid hadn't shot Cameron when she'd told Chase where they were, or why he hadn't shot Chase when he'd entered the room. But now…

Cameron had pressed her hands to Chase's chest, trying in vain to stem the blood pouring from the wound. Her hands were already covered in fresh blood, and she was crying worse than ever.

"House, help me!"

House and Cuddy exchanged a brief look before Cuddy darted forward. He found it odd that Cameron would ask him for help when Cuddy was much closer, and, at the same time, he felt a strange sense of foreboding. Cameron had begged him to help her because she expected him to produce some god-like solution out of thin air, which meant she was scared enough to think only a miracle could save Chase.

House found himself hoping that was not the case.

The blood soaked Cuddy's hands as quickly as it had Cameron's, which House took as a bad sign. Cuddy threw him a worried look.

"Do something!" she mouthed.

"Talk to me, Cameron," he instructed. He knew it was a futile attempt to force her into doctor-mode, instead of scared-and-frantic-worried-ex-wife mode, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. "Is there an exit wound?"

"I don't know!" she cried. "I can't see through all this blood!"

"There's no exit wound," Cuddy called in response. "Oh, no…"

"What?" Cameron asked frantically. "What is it?"

But House had seen it, too. With Chase's grip having slackened and Cameron's hands now on his chest, her own wound had begun bleeding again.

"I've got this," Cuddy was trying to tell her. "Move your hands back."

"No!" Cameron exclaimed. "The bleeding isn't under control; he's going to die if I move my hands."

"_You'll_ die if you don't!" Cuddy responded, rather harshly, House thought. "I can get the bleeding under control, just move your hands back now!"

"What she's trying to say," House interrupted loudly before Cameron could protest again, "is that Chase took a bullet for you, and it would be a pretty poor way to repay him if you bled out trying to save his dying and self-sacrificing ass."

Cameron's look of horror was almost enough to make him turn away, but he continued to glare at her until she had slipped her hands out from under Cuddy's and put them back on her own leg.

"You bastard," he heard her say. House wasn't sure if she was talking to him, Sid, or Chase. "You damn bastard."

"House!" Cuddy called, and he was alarmed by the anxiety in her voice. His eyes followed hers to the pool of blood that was rapidly growing beneath the body.

"Get it under control," he snapped. "Be a damn doctor." He tried to communicate wordlessly that he wasn't really chastising her; he was only speaking harshly so that Cameron would not realize the direness of the situation, though he knew it was a poor last-ditch effort.

"Please don't die, you can't die," Cameron begged.

More to block out Cameron's pleading than anything else, he turned to Sid and said the first thing that came to mind.

"You know there was always a third option."

He had recognized this a long time ago, when Sid had first presented the scenario, but he had kept quiet, not wanting to agitate him further. Now, however, that seemed rather pointless. "Two family members needed a kidney. Luckily, by some act of the all-knowing and non-existent God, we humans were created with two of those suckers." He stared hard at Sid, his eyes burning with anger. "You could have donated both."

"But – but—" Sid protested, "—I heard you couldn't live without a kidney."

"No," House corrected him, "you can't live a very _good_ life without a kidney. You'd just be on dialysis for the rest of your life."

"But – I couldn't-"

"You could have!" House thundered. "You were forced to make a very hard choice between your wife and your kid. But you didn't_ have_ to choose between them. If you loved them, you would have saved them both. You would have sacrificed yourself for them. Dialysis isn't the end of the world — death _is. _You should have donated both."

"Don't tell me what I should have done!" Sid shrieked. "You weren't there – you couldn't know how it felt – you – you-"

"I know exactly how it feels!" House yelled. "You've been forcing me into that position for hours. Why do you think it's taken me so long to come to a decision? It's because I can't make one."

"You just told me what the answer was."

"No, I didn't," he snapped. "I just told you what _you_ should have done. You keep saying you loved your wife and kid, but you didn't love them enough to donate both."

"You don't love _them_ enough to take the last bullet," Sid retorted, gesturing toward Cameron and Cuddy.

"I never said that."

His words stunned Sid into silence. Even Cameron's sobs seemed to have subsided. No one spoke until Cuddy gasped, "No."

"It's the only way," House said quietly.

"You – you can't!" she exclaimed. She made to stand up, but, realizing where her hands were, she forced herself to stay where she was. "You don't have to."

"I do," he said, nodding at Cameron. "They're never going to make it out of here otherwise."

"House," Cuddy began sharply, "this isn't the time for more games. You need to do something _now_. He's really bleeding out; we have to get him to an OR in the next few minutes, or-"

"I _am_ doing something!" he replied. "I am making a decision." He turned back to Sid. "I choose them. I donate both. Kill one, save two. Simple math, and done."

Sid's expression hardened. "No deal."

"What do you mean 'no deal'?" House repeated testily. "I'm finally doing what you want. I chose who to kill. Why won't you accept it?"

"Because you'd be saving three people now," Sid pointed out. "He's your third family member," he continued, gesturing to Chase. "You're back to square one."

"That's not part of your damn game!" House roared, feeling the last remnants of control slipping away from him quickly. "You've already killed the third family member! You can't just create another one to make up for your mistake."

Sid held his ground. "I'm the one with the gun; I'm the one calling the shots."

"Well, isn't that witty," House snapped. He spread his arms, exposing himself to the barrel of the gun. "Shoot me."

"No!" Cuddy exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

But Sid didn't move. "Two family members are dying. You can donate both kidneys to save them. But then, the other one, the extra, she goes the same way as my child did. Dead because there was nothing in your power you could do to save her. Here's my offer. I shoot your girlfriend. That's my daughter. Then I shoot you. That's the donation. The other two will be saved, and live unhappily ever after. That's me and my wife."

"You seem to be in this scenario twice," House observed. "And how will I know you won't just shoot up everyone in this whole hospital after I'm dead and gone?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die, I won't kill anyone else."

"I certainly _do_ hope you die," House muttered.

"Scout's honor," Sid finished.

House scoffed. "Like I'd believe that bullshit."

"House," Cuddy said urgently. He glanced over. It was obvious Chase was not doing well. Cameron was crying again, her eyes wide as she stared at the blood, unable to do anything with her hands glued to her leg. It seemed like all there was to see was red. Time was clearly running out. He turned back to Sid.

"Do we have a deal?"

"No!" Cuddy shrieked, before Sid could answer. "What are you doing?" she demanded. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"_To_ you?" House said calmly. "I'm doing this _for _you."

Cuddy sighed loudly. "For once in your life, I want you to be selfish. You're selfish about everything. _Everything._ And the one time I need you to be selfish, to want to save yourself, you won't do it. What is wrong with you?"

"I'm _trying_ to be the better person here."

"Don't be!"

"He's dying!" House roared. "And I don't expect her to survive it. _You_ are strong enough, I know you are."

"But-"

"Look at her!" he yelled in exasperation. "She will _never_ get over it. This will ruin her life."

"House!" Cuddy cut across him so loudly that he knew he could not interrupt her again. "There's still one bullet left."

He was taken aback by this information, but immediately it made sense. How could he have missed it? _Of course_ Sid had never intended to make it out of the room alive. No matter how many people he managed to shoot at, no matter how many bullets he used, he had to save one for himself. House could have kicked himself for how obvious it was.

"The suicide bullet," he confirmed quietly. "Right."

"House." This time Cameron had spoken. Unwillingly, he looked at her tear-stained face, and then followed her gaze to Chase's body. It was now or never. "Please." Her words were barely audible.

House walked over to Sid and stood so that he was in point-blank range of the gun. He met Cuddy's eyes, and she nodded. She understood what had to be done. He forced himself to look at Wilson's body, and felt himself hoping that if he were wrong about this, his death would at least be as quick as his friend's had been.

"You know what to do," he said quietly to Sid. "If there is only one bullet left – and I know there is only one bullet left – you have two options. You got what you came here for. You made me answer your question. You even got to take a few shots in the process.

"This is my answer. I choose to donate both. I want you to kill me, in order to save the other people in the room. The scenario will be complete, and you can enjoy your life without parole for…well, for the rest of your sad, sorry life.

"Or you can kill yourself, save yourself from a life of imprisonment. Your life is already prison – you know that, right? Kids dead, wife won't talk to you… It really sucks to be you. I know you'd welcome death. It's why you came here with a suicide bullet in the first place.

"Now you have a choice to make. Kill me, and get what you came for. Or kill yourself, and realize that I already gave you what you wanted."

He stepped closer so that the barrel of the gun was pressed directly to his chest.

"So, what's it going to be, Sid?"

Momentary silence filled the room. Then – without warning – the sound of the gun popped for the last time.

* * *

**A/N:** I will post the final chapter soon. Very soon if you review!


	11. Nash Equilibrium

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own anything.

**A/N:** Not much to say here, since there's a longer note at the end. Sorry it took me a little longer than anticipated to get this chapter up, but I had to go through two drafts to get it perfect. Enjoy!

**A/N:** Words are not enough, Melissa. B&P!

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House rubbed his forehead and adjusted his position on the hard, unforgiving chair in the NICU. The tiny baby in front of him had been born just a few days earlier after Cameron had been rushed to the OR. He had been the one to cut the umbilical cord after the C-section had been performed, as no one else of importance had been around to do it. The baby had been born jaundiced, his liver not yet being fully developed, and had been in the NICU ever since. The steady beep of the heart monitor was both painful and comforting.

He was looking better, though, House reflected. At least, the skin looked less yellow. The baby – he still didn't know its name – turned over in his sleep, his miniature hands balled into fists. House quickly stole a glance around the room. As it was midnight, it was empty of anyone over the age of one, but he still felt compelled to check that none of the infants were looking at him. Assured that none of them were watching, he slid his finger forward and gently stroked the infant's fist.

It seemed incredible – as unnaturally sappy as that word sounded to his ears – that new life had come from that room. He tried not to think about it, about everything that had happened, but in the quiet hours of the NICU, he found little else to dwell on. The fact that he had almost died, well, he could live with that. The fact that so many other people had almost died, the fact that one of his friends had… those were the memories that still haunted him.

Sid was dead. He still remembered the shock of seeing Sid move the gun to his own chest and pull the trigger. For someone who hadn't known much about anatomy, he had still managed to find his heart and lodge a bullet right next to it. House remembered the feeling of Sid's body falling toward him, the blood staining his clothing. He had shoved the body aside. His death hadn't been immediate or painless, for which House was glad.

Cuddy had run for the door, and security had swarmed the room thirty seconds later. He tried not to remember much after that.

Nobody had escaped unscathed. In a way, Wilson had been lucky. He hated himself for envying his friend's death, but he couldn't help it. Being alive after that kind of experience…it was just painful, beyond pain he had felt before. It was grief, and fear, and a flood of every other emotion he usually kept himself from feeling. But it seemed like now, in the dead of night, in the company of those too young to form memories, it felt safe to let those emotions go.

The funeral was in two days. Cuddy was taking care of the details – she was good at that kind of thing -and it gave her something to keep her busy. He knew he probably should have done it, but there was an unspoken agreement between them that it would be simply too painful. He wasn't good at making funeral plans – or any kind of plans, for that matter – and he tended to run in the opposite direction from funerals in general. But obviously, he'd have to go to this one.

He still wasn't sure who would be there. He and Cuddy would be there, and Foreman would probably make an appearance, not that he had been in the room or known Wilson particularly well. He wondered vaguely if Taub would show up. He found he didn't particularly care. The real question was whether Cameron or Chase would be able to make it.

By the time Cameron had reached the OR, the bullet had found its way to her chest cavity. He supposed it had happened in the last five minutes they'd been in the exam room, as she would have displayed symptoms much earlier otherwise. The stress of watching Chase almost die – and Sid actually die – had been too much for her body to handle. But she was alive, and that was saying something.

She was still in the ICU, and so far, he had been unable to sneak her son in to see her (or sneak Cameron into the NICU, which would be much more conspicuous than smuggling out a baby). On the other hand, he hadn't actually spoken to her, which was why he didn't know the name of her son. He had so far been calling it "the baby" in his head. He wondered vaguely if she even had a name picked out. He knew he should probably go see her, but he couldn't bring himself to. He didn't want to see her blaming him for what had happened. He knew it wasn't entirely his fault, but it was hard to escape all feeling of responsibility.

Chase on the other hand…well, that was a different story. Chase probably wasn't blaming him, but it wasn't like Chase was doing much of anything these days. He was also in the ICU, and as of an hour ago, he still wasn't awake. The bullet had lodged itself near the aorta, and the repair had been complicated. He had observed from the gallery. Cuddy had arrived in time to watch as Chase's heart stopped over and over again, necessitating a surgical resident whose sole job it was to hold the internal paddles at ready. When the surgery was finally over, he'd expelled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He tried to reassure himself that he didn't actually care about Chase, that he only cared because it would really suck for Cameron and the baby if he died… but that logic meant he cared about Cameron and the baby, so he didn't know what to make of that.

"Hey."

He twisted around, pulling his hand back from the infant. Cuddy was walking toward him. She looked exhausted, and he was surprised to see her here. Though she spent her days in the hospital, shut up in her office with funeral arrangements and other hospital things, or else sitting with Cameron (and maybe Chase, too, although he wasn't sure what good that would do), she did go home at night to be with Rachel. He had been living in the hospital, alternating between his office, the NICU, and the ICU as sleeping places. It felt easier to be there than to go home to the apartment he had once shared with Wilson. He was determined to avoid the place as long as possible.

She reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her head on his. "How is he?" she asked.

"Surviving," he replied. "Who's watching Rachel?"

"Marina," Cuddy answered. She sighed softly, rubbing the tension from his shoulders. "You shouldn't be alone."

"Neither should Rachel," he mumbled.

"She'll be fine," Cuddy said. She pulled away from him then, searching his face. He was struck by the fact they hadn't actually spoken about that day, or anything else that had happened since. "I know you didn't have a choice."

He swallowed, dropping his gaze to the baby. "Didn't I?" he asked finally. "It would have been a hard choice, sure, but a hard choice doesn't mean no choice."

"It does when you're choosing between the people you love," she reminded him gently. She leaned closer. "And I don't think Sid had a choice either."

"No one held a gun to his head and forced him to make a choice. He could have donated both," House protested.

"Sacrifice is a choice, too," she pointed out.

House looked back at the baby. He felt a sudden urge to reach out and take his tiny fist again. "She hates me, doesn't she?"

"Cameron?" Cuddy clarified. "She doesn't hate you… not any more than she would have before this, at least." He looked up. The corners of her mouth were twitching. "Really, though," she continued, "she doesn't hate you. She said she wanted to see you, actually."

"She probably just thinks I'd be the one most likely to break her son out of the NICU to arrange an ex parte meeting, right?"

"Well, now that you mention it, she did say something like that…"

He huffed. "Figures. The only thing I'm good for is debauchery." He turned back to the infant. "Does she have a name for him?"

"Um, yes – well, kind of," Cuddy answered.

"What does 'yes, well, kind of,' mean?"

"It means that…it means that she has a name, but she wants to, ah, ask your permission first."

He groaned. "She is not naming the baby Greg."

"No, no, she doesn't want to name him Greg," Cuddy assured him. "She wants to name him…James."

"James?" he repeated blankly. "She wants to name him after Wilson?" Cuddy nodded. "But – why?"

"Well," she began, "I suppose she feels it would be fitting."

"But why does she need _my_ permission to name him after Wilson?"

Cuddy smiled sadly. "I think because she would have asked _his_ permission if she could…and since she can't, you're the next best thing."

He considered this as he watched the baby's chest slowly rising up and down. Cameron was right; it did seem oddly fitting, in a twisted way. Out loud he said, "He would have been honored."

Cuddy nodded. "I know."

Suddenly he knew was he had to do. Pushing the hard chair back, he stood. He lifted the glass lid, and then reached inside and picked up the child for the first time. Carefully, he wrapped the infant in a blanket and disconnected the monitors. He quickly glanced at Cuddy to see if she would say anything, but she only nodded her approval. He supposed it was why she had come in the first place.

"Come on, James," he said to the sleeping bundle in his arms, "your freedom awaits."

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I first want to thank my lovely beta, Melissa, for all of her work on this story. It just wouldn't be the same without her. Brains and porcupines forever! Enjoy your weekend break.

Next, to all my lovely readers and reviewers – your encouragement has really kept me going on this story. I would not have been able to do this without you. Each and every one of your reviews has meant so much. A quick note on one of the aspects of this story: Game theory has played a big role – for those who have ever studied IR, economics, etc. you may have seen the connections, especially in the chapter titles. In its most basic form, game theory poses a scenario with two players and two outcomes, generally a good one and a bad one. The players each have to determine, usually without cooperating, what strategy they should adopt that would get them the best outcome. The Prisoner's Dilemma is one of the most well-known games (though the scenario posed in this story doesn't have anything to do with the actual Prisoner's Dilemma game). If you're interested, see Wikipedia for more information.

As for what's next – well, I am considering writing a companion piece to this story…not really a sequel, but it would give a bit more information about the immediate aftermath, and then also show how House is coping with the loss of Wilson over the next few years. Still thinking about it. Muse was struck by a new idea recently that looks like it's going to take off…also on the table is a sequel to Under the Same Moon, a Cuddy-centric story, a Chameron betrayal story, and of course, One Second to Die, which I have been plugging away at for months now. So, in other words, I don't really know what's next from me, but if you put me on alert you can know as soon as it's posted!

Thanks again,

-holadios


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